march of the martini
its been two weeks, maybe more, since i last smoked weed. this is less of an accomplishment than i thought, as it has come quite easy, but the novelty of it is hardly lost on me.
i was a daily smoker for many years. too many to count or admit. the first few years i was what you could consider a stoner, and i mean that in the most literal sense. smoking weed was part of my identity. i wore shirts with pot paraphernalia, hung posters on my wall that displayed my allegiance to the leaf, would bond with strangers based solely on our shared habit, and could smoke all day until i passed out. i hung around a group of kids that were also stoners, and found those that didnt smoke nervous squares, cowards of modern society. i would get excited when, in films, characters would smoke weed. i would feel a special connection to them, as if they were written that way for my benefit. when movies would come out that used smoking as a pillar of plot development, id be first in line to see them, and id be the first to point out any inaccuracies in how they practiced it, as if i were an expert. of course, all songs that were about weed i immediately liked, and would add to my soundtrack to play while having a session. i was dedicated to smoking. it gave me purpose.
then i got older and i grew out of appearing like a smoker, of letting myself be defined by weed. i didnt smoke any less, but i took down my posters and rarely wore my pot themed clothes. some of my friends went further into the character, eventually turning into hippies, and i still hung out with them but we werent as close as before. i wasnt a stoner, i was just a smoker. id begun to cling to other drugs anyway, so no one substance could be my legend. still, i smoked all day, almost every day. waking up to a bong load and passing out with a spliff in my mouth. my roomates sold weed at the time, so it was always in abundance. i didnt think anything of it, it was just something i did. something everyone did. it wasnt a way of life, it was just another part of it.
back then smoking had a few different effects on me. sometimes it would inspire me. i would get these unorthodox thoughts or poetic sensations. it would help me think through my dj sets, sometimes mixing records in my head before i even put them on the turntables. when i ate food i would devour it, absolutely ravenous by the time it hit my lips. and sometimes it would calm me down and help me forget my worries. it was, without a doubt, a helper, not a hinderer.
as i got older and my responsibilities grew, i smoked less (much to my chagrin). i had learned that, no matter how beneficial i thought weed was, i got spacey when i was high. and being that i worked a high pressure job that i didnt want to lose, i had to stop smoking during the day. i couldnt be blanking out at my desk if i got an important call from someone. then i began school, so i had to push my smoking time back to even later in the evening, because studying or writing, although doable while stoned, wasnt the best way to get an A. my papers would get too creative, and i wouldnt retain as much of my reading. i got used to this, and smoking at night before i went to sleep became a pleasurable habit. it helped me to unwind, and it made getting to sleep easier.
then i got even older, and my brain became filled with all the worries of the world. i still smoked only at night, but not just because of school or work, but because i would start to panic if i smoked during the day. i would grow concerned about bills, about deadlines, about ambitions. i would let an impending sense of doom suffocate me, and want to curl up in a fetal position instead of doing anything else. id always thought i was the kind of person who would never let weed make me paranoid, but i suppose life wound me up, and unwinding was just harder to do.
recently, with everything in my head and heart, i just havent wanted to smoke. it frightens me, what ill think of were i to get stoned. i dont want to panic, or get angry, or worst of all, grow sad. so im taking a break. i have a few drinks and the solace of silence. its working so far, and ive even begun to get up earlier in the day. i will probably pick up the habit again, but it'll be much more infrequent, and ill probably only want to do it while on vacation. this is reasonable. i dont dislike weed, at all. i just dont love it anymore.
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